


The flip side

by Efervescent



Category: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen, Naruto
Genre: Gardens!verse, Gen, Jashinism, Refugees, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Trauma, Yuugakure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 19:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Efervescent/pseuds/Efervescent
Summary: It’s only one decision. It can’t change that much. Except it’s the decision of a God and has affected centuries of human development, so really, things have veered wildly off course. Featuring: Jashinism as a tool to help people help themselves, the mysteriously overpowered not-really-ninja of Sunagakure and the out-of-context problem that inadvertently wrecks havoc on the frail balance of international politics. Gardens!verse





	1. Weakness and conquest

**Author's Note:**

> A long while ago, someone posted the following idea on the recursive thread:  
> "You know there's one verse where gelel Is an angry sealed elder God thing, perhaps a devourer of light and life? Oh it devoured the oasis that once surrounded the ancient city so defeating it revitilizes everything on the flip side Jashin is probably a god of self sacrifice? Hidan is either high priest where all the power of the sacrifices end up resulting him being immortal so good(?) Traveling monk Hidan or a still crazy religous rebel whose god refuses to let go of his life."
> 
> It made me go like: except do you even need to change the fundamental natures of the gods to get the desired ripple effects? How about…

 

 

        Jashin is a god of suffering. He thrives on the faith and misery that humanity can’t seem to shake. But when a wide-spread plague strikes and decimates the slowly-building population, he does not withdraw in apathy, but rather he opens his eyes and watches closely. His existence will not be decided by the toss of nature’s dice so long as he still has some power. Humans must stay. He precedes them in some way, but the belief of something with that much more spiritual potential has allowed him a whole new depth of power and deliberation, and he will not have this taken from him without a struggle. It’s then that he notices a wholly unexpected phenomenon. It’s not those that languish at the edge of existence, so poor and helpless they could die and be better off, that suffer the most. A dearth of resources will only bring focus on their most immediate needs and leave them apathetic to the rest. But give them some food, a shelter and a job and you will see the pain start to spread. Worry about losing what little they have, envy towards those that have slightly more, overwork trying to improve their miserable lives, constant hunger still because now they have enough to save. Hundreds of small sacrifices they make hoping they would one day add up to improve their life that never bear fruit, and hurt all the more. Humans are fragile, but have such depth of suffering-they’re worth keeping around. Jashin will not be an Elder God, unmoving and uncaring, too assured of his own importance and power to break out of apathy even as the changing world erases his name and erodes his power. Slowly, the divine revelations Jashinist priests get start to change and ‘god of suffering ‘ gains a wholly different meaning.(1)

 

* * *

 

 

Gelel is a god of life. It is an artificial construct, but a god nonetheless, backed by the same power to pull on the stings of reality. Unlike a natural kami, it does not start small: the seal that births it is designed for optimal capacity right from the moment it’s activated. And so it doesn’t awaken over centuries and it doesn’t drift separate from the world: it grows and learns and draw its strength solidly from the bounty of natural chakra it is swaddled in. The empire reigns strong and in the heart of every citizen it learns self-assurance and trust in their superiority, as well as the greed that drives them forward, always a little further. It learns the striving desire to keep existing nestled within its companions. And so it reaches, always further, always a little more, until they try to shackle it. Their thoughts show the dwindling forests and the encroaching dunes, pale and sprawling where decades ago there had been lush jungle. Gelel fights back. It will not let its own existence be destroyed, not even by those that carry it in their hearts. Eventually, they flee, leaving behind a country that glows golden and dead under the scorching. Gelel… only realises what their departure means once they’re an ocean away. Without his companions, his reach no longer extends wherever they go. Abandoned, it can only reach its surroundings. After decades of gluttony, it will not disappear for a long time, so it settles in for a sleep that will last centuries.(2)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Jashin’s ideal targets straddle the line between poverty and the middle class- allowing for the problems of both, with extra worry and more sustainability(since they do have some measure of income).  
> (2) The people initially thought that the use of resources in more populated areas led to the accelerated desertification, so every couple of decades they would move around, but this only spread the effect. Here modern Wind country is only inhabitable in coastal areas because they used to be ravaged by tsunamis and typhoons. As such, the people of Gelel didn’t spend much time there=> Gelel couldn’t drain the natural energy through them.


	2. Reaching higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuugakure is a miserable place to be a nobody. The people are poor, the Church is corrupt and Hidan has no prospects. One day, he will ensure none of those things are still true.

 

 

He watches the world through a curtain of dust and steam. The humidity makes the dust cling to his skin, his clothes, his hair. He hates it, but he lets it be- the grubby appearance contrasts brutally with his beautiful face, which he keeps clean as best as he can. A streak of grey on his cheekbone, nothing more, gives the best effects. But soon it’s not enough anymore – he grows steadily and starts needing more food, but money slows as he grows older. His face goes from chubby to gaunt and the money is all but gone. He picks up swearing – grown-ups are scandalized when they hear him, but also entertained. He grows to hate the sound of bells. He can hear the priests coming, the tinkling of the little bells that decorate the bottoms of their robes heralding their passing. White robes- they have to be washed every night; without a care for how the hot spring water has wrecked Nana’s hands. He hears their empty words and sees their cold eyes and he hates, he hates, he hates. He listens to the them preaching kindness and generosity as coins click against the wood of their box, he watches them grow fat and content. There is no sharing, no help, there are only more white robes. Hidan feels like a geyser: dangerous and boiling, ready to burst. But even if he does, it will not be the end. He will stay boiling under pressure until the next time.

 

Poverty and anger make for poor companions. He’s sitting at the side of the road, head bowed and hand stretched out when the Academy lets out. One of the future shinobi decides to showcase his power. The tip of a sandal touches Hidan’s chest and the geyser goes off.

 

He’s admitted into the academy, replacing the student that will not be filling the ranks of Yuugakure (the only thing he’ll be filling is a funeral barge). The tensions between the Great Nations are mounting and Yuugakure will do anything to prevent being erased from the map, not even a footnote in history books. He’s a shinobi, so he’ll never become a priest: the church of Jashin demands absolute devotion. Forgiveness supposedly includes murder, theft and just about anything else, but really modern qualifications for priesthood involve a heavy purse willing to be emptied (only for the chance to be filled even more) rather than a desire to bring change into the world and do Jashin’s will onto it. He hates the bells more as he grows, as he begins to understand just how much good a little can do, how much potential the greed and corruption have squandered. The problem is self-sustaining. And if when he closes his eyes he hears the choir of town people singing until he can taste their hope, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

 

He feels like he’s barely spent a minute in the Academy before graduating. He’d jumped at the chance to learn, a chance he knows intimately he might not get again. He starts learning how to read by the time the rest of his class is writing two-page essays on decryption methods. But he lives in the basement of the school and has nothing to take up his time (parents or games or more than the one sponsored meal a day), so he grits his teeth and tries to work his way through hiragana, katakana and later kanji-ignorance is just another type of poverty. The fighting is the easiest part. It takes him three months to work his way to the top of the class – he’s not cruel, because that’s just as much of a liability as pity, but he doesn’t hold back. Every fight is his last fight until his willing opponents dwindle to nothing. Sensei doesn’t want to spar with him either, by the end of the year: he’ll win, but the suffering Hidan will put him through is really not worth it.

 

He graduates feeling like he’s barely scratched the surface. Yuugakure has 748 publicly available books. That’s counting the ones in the offices of the priests, the head of civilian administration and the doctor, where he’d had to force his entrance ( he’d never truly enjoy reading, but he’d keep at it throughout his life, always ravenous for the extra bit of knowledge. It’s worth it when he realizes that hanging someone out over the top of a building by their neck could be described as an enhanced persuasion method). He could make his way through all of them by the time he turns 15, a fact that hovers at the back of his head. But he doesn’t realize what it actually means until he’s assigned his first solo mission. The realisation of the narrowness of his universe fades into the background, however, because it’s also the mission where he meets the most important woman in his life.


	3. Dusk and dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody has an ulterior motive. Everybody knows everyone else has an ulterior motive. That doesn't mean people stop engaging in transactions. Hidan experiments.

 

 

       There is no love lost between Saga-sama and his staff. His self-entitlement would be grating were it not also the least problematic part of his view of the world. He also believes in fierce discipline, always repaying debts and destiny, which translates in having a household filled with children and spouses of former debtors who couldn’t settle their debts, a whipping post that sees action every other week and fixed rations for his ‘employees’ who were obviously right where they were meant to be and treated as such.

 

Mayu…hadn’t always been Mayu. But Mariko belonged to the days spent running around the shop and touching all the new arrivals while doing inventory, delighting in the smooth slide of silk over her hands. Mayu had survived, she’d put all the ambition and cleverness that had languished in Mariko to good work (because sure she could take over the business, but why bother when marrying rich would have been so easy? Who would choose danger, overwork and potential poverty dodging their steps when they could just as easily contend themselves with a distant, mostly absent spouse and an estate to run?). Her current job as a maid had been the result of careful deliberation and almost two years’ worth of maneuvering things into position, making herself the most convenient choice for a replacement (and then making sure the position was empty. Sure, it was a shame that Koharu had to go, but with an open fracture in her leg, it was immediately clear that she wouldn’t be able to keep on working. She’d been executed right away, so her death had at least been swift). Cleaning the many rooms of the estate was a lot of work, but still objectively preferable to any of the other positions available to her (too weak to be able to fill her share working the fields. Cooking left you open to punishment if the master felt displeased for whatever reason or other. The waitstaff had to bear through the … affections that any guest might decide to bestow upon them. Bedwarmers had a tendency to be assigned the more dangerous tasks after losing the master’s attention, and as such had an alarmingly short post-affair lifespan). Rebellion was… highly unlikely to succeed, even as a distraction for a quick solo getaway. Saga was shrewd enough to realise that a man as fortunate and as business-savvy as himself might beget the envy of others, and as such had a dozen samurai on retainer. There was little that she could do about the bigger picture.

 

But Mayu knew that things would not necessarily stay the same. One day, opportunity would come knocking and she would be ready. After all, having the key was not the only way to get past a locked door. Taking advantage of a cart crashing through the wall of the house and then just stepping through the hole still got you where you wanted to be. Admittedly, she hadn’t expected for it to happen quite so soon; she’d been ready to wait for years.

 

She got the news that a new kitchen boy had appeared, but it took almost four days until she finally got to see him, despite all servants sharing sleeping quarters. Cleaning the eastern wing was a week-long and exhausting job, so she usually just took advantage of the lack of people inhabiting it (it was only used for housing visiting family, which happened twice a year. Saga was one of the least conservative members of his family, who expected perfection and treated the staff like animals). She caught a glimpse of little Dan when he brought her lunch. The memory of his sooty face and loose clothes stayed with her as she worked and she was struggling to figure out why. His face was lovely, but the morose expression and stains carefully detracted from his appeal (to his luck. Saga was not above closing business deals through ‘favours’ and some of his associates had less common tastes). She ate her rations and finished work for the day before falling asleep. She dreams about the slaughter of her family-a common enough nightmare- but this time the shinobi wears Dan’s face. She wakes up with an answer on the tip of her tongue and the feeling of victory finally being within reach.

 

Because Dan’s hair is dirty brown, and while his eyebrows and eyelashes match, his body hair is so pale it might as well be translucent. His clothes are loose to hide muscle, but the scars on his hands don’t come from normal knife work-a civilian that clumsy would have lost a couple of fingers by now, but not a ninja with access to healing techniques. But really the most damning of all is the way he moves. He looks downtrodden and moves like any other servant would, but first thing every new hire gets is a good whipping (to learn what awaits them should they mess up) and a week without food (to "prove their mettle". Why feed them at all if they’re not going to last in the long run?). Dan moves like all the other scurrying children in the kitchens, but the fact that he must be injured-exhausted-starving doesn’t show. He’s only just beginning infiltration work if he’s this young; his mission must be short-term if he can afford to be this shoddy. It’s not killing Saga, that much she can tell. A ninja would try to do it from a distance and rely on the element of surprise, there would be no need to subject themselves to the indignity that is life in the Saga household. He must be after something in the house, but he expects to find it soon enough, so her window to act is small and closing fast. The next day, when he comes again, she’ll be ready. She can only do something small, or she risks suspicion and maybe even elimination. It might not achieve anything at all. But if it does… First will come freedom, then people, then power, then money.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

         The Ukumi family defaults on their debt and their son Dan is taken to work off the debt under the benevolent watch of Saga Daisuke. More precisely, the Ukumi family uses the last of their funds to guarantee them safe passage into Kusa (and away from their many creditors) under the protection of Yuugakure shinobi, and mission control takes the opportunity to also plant an infiltrator in the house where most major continental commercial transactions are settled. Border skirmishes have become commonplace rather than a rarity, war has been on the horizon for a while now and the contents of Saga’s document vault would go a long way towards allowing Yuu to predict who might actually have the resources to come out on top. The vault is well-guarded and protected against chakra moreover. But Uzumaki Yuuto has just escaped Uzushio after having been exposed ‘entertaining’ his future bride’s brother right before his wedding to the Headwoman’s daughter-which would have been witnessed by a vast collection of foreign officials and officiated by the daimyo. Having been part of the team that had designed the vault’s defences, he was more than willing enough to craft a seal that would transcribe the contents without having to actually unlock it in exchange for a hefty sum and papers that would get him into Wind. Once means and opportunity had come together, a crash course in infiltration was all that was needed before delivering (Hi)Dan to the gates of the Saga compound.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 The Saga household is a wretched place to be, but the mission demands an inside job. He spends his days working through hunger and pain, all the while having to emulate the (low) standards of competence of the other kitchen boys-which gets him kicked more than once. At night he tracks the rotation of the guards and the lack of sleep only makes the experience more frustrating. He gets to see the boastful guests and the overworked staff in more detail than he’s ever wanted. His face draws more than one grabby hand, but the slightest hint of killing intent will cull any civilian’s lust while maintaining his cover. Mayu is a test. He sees her briefly while delivering her lunch and she looks the same as all the others: thin and tired. But the next day she seats him down and gives him her (already insufficient) share. She doesn’t pity him- her chakra does not cling to him the way civilians’ sometimes does. She doesn’t even like children, if the other servants are to be believed. He takes the food, but asks what she wants in return. She says wants to be remembered-by giving him some of what is hers, she has extended her existence outside of herself. A slight sacrifice for her makes a big difference for him, and if only for that purpose, it might be well worth it.

 

Two days later Sanada Hideyoshi, the newest and youngest of the samurai staffing the compound, ‘commits suicide’. He stabs himself in the heart, rather than slit his belly open, because he has not committed any dishonour (and so as not to show the spots that mark his guts because of the poison). Knowing he suffered from a deadly wasting disease that would only drain him over time, he leaves his domain to Kuragami Mariko, confessing that she is in fact his illegitimate daughter, borne of a union with her married mother. Proven not to be the daughter of Kuragami Asuma, Sanada Mariko is no longer liable for his debt. Her interests are upheld by the samurai whose community she has now joined, so her ‘father’s’ fortune is not drained in the transfer. It’s a real life rags to riches story. The drama distracts from the fact that Sanada died while on shift in the vault room. It obviously hasn’t been opened anyway and the man probably just wanted some privacy, away from the shared quarters of the samurai.

 

Dan’s back gets infected and he dies before the end of his second working week. Saga-dono takes this as confirmation that his methods really are the best way to avoid an unwise investment-surely the child would have fallen sick later on and how much money would he have spent on clothing and food by then? Life goes on. Three months later, the Sanada estate is home to dozens of war refugees that trade work for food and shelter. Manor rooms get repurposed into workshops, rocky fields are cleaned by a hundred willing hands and get divided into plantations. Word of Sanada-dono’s kindness and wisdom spreads. Hidan sees Mayu’s words proven right. With a couple of hours of extra legwork and some docked pay for going outside mission parameters he has provided almost a hundred people with a stable residence and source of income. He has managed to extend his existence outside of himself. He has seen that it can be done. With a power like that of the Hands of Jashin… someone could do just about anything.(1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Mariko is using a cheap and desperate labour force to establish a power base. Once war breaks out, food production is going to go down and food prices will go up, so if they can produce an excess they could actually make a profit. Since she’s now in the land of Iron, she doesn’t even have to worry about shinobi plundering the fruits of her labour, just taxes.


	4. Circus mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the frying pan and into the... toaster. Things aren't exactly perfect, but the worst case scenario has already been avoided (well, hopefully. It's not like she can check). All that's left is to try and make the best of her current circumstances.

 

 

       She wakes up gasping, choking on slowly-clotting blood. She struggles to roll onto her side, her core strength wrecked by the wound in her abdomen. She’s losing blood and she feels the need to hold the hole plugged shut with her hand, for fear her guts might spill out. It’s hard to find the concentration to use the stone, but she has little choice. She manages, eventually, letting panic overcome her but only once she has healed herself. Once the troubled breathing subsides and she can see clearly she takes a look around. She’s managed to escape, for a given value of the word. She’s somewhere else, but that’s about all that she knows about her current location. The room she’s in smells dusty and doesn’t have a door. The architecture is strongly reminiscent of the Jashinist temple she was just in, so there’s a strong chance this is just another variant of it. One found a couple of universes over. There’s still no door apparent, so she goes to feel the wall, thinking it might be hidden. The second her hand touches the wall she can feel her already meagre supply of chakra starting to drain, the wall lighting up with seals. She withdraws her hand immediately and the seals disappear. Nothing explodes, which is always a promising sign. She lets her fingers hover right over the surface and sends a probing tendril of chakra into the wall-it lights up again, trying to suck out more than she’s willing to give, but she has more control like this. She takes a look at the seals sprawling over every wall of the empty room. At a closer look, it’s all one sprawling seal. The design is old-fashioned, but it’s the style of the characters that stands out. She can guess what most of them mean, but this seal is easily a hundred years old. It’s all about containment and protection from outside forces, mingled with sections whose purpose she can only speculate about. It would hold a god, she realises with a start. A god, an alien, any kind of superpowered non-human invader. In this world, the possibility of Jashin invading has long been foreseen and prevented.

 

That’s reassuring, but also not an answer to the question of how she might be able to get out of the room. She tries a chakra amplified blow and the wall doesn’t even budge. Not that she expected it to, but she would have felt awfully stupid if she tried a bunch of complicated things and then found that brute force was just as good of an answer. She tries to morph into a shadow and finds herself unable to move. Forget going through the wall, she can’t even cross the few centimeters separating her from it. Luckily enough, releasing the transformation is easy enough. Next up, hiding like a mole technique. To her utter shock, it works. Her hand has no problem passing through the wall. Slowly, she tries to make her way out-but neither her head nor the Gelel stone are being let through. And she has a moment of understanding. She’s been contaminated on some level by her contact with Jashin and Gelel. The seals won’t let something so heavily influenced by the divine get out of this protective confinement. But she’s human, and if there’s anything humans are good at, it’s finding loopholes. So the stone goes into Hammerspace, no longer technically in the same dimension, while her memories are carefully tucked into her shadow. She manages to pass this this time, but a good time is had by exactly no-one.(1)

 

But if she thought the containment chamber was a surprise, it’s got nothing on what she finds outside. Because she goes through the wall only to open her eyes and come face to face with Hidan. A second of shock and fear later, she realises it’s just a hyper realistic mural. She’s still a little off-balance from the shock and the blood loss, she acknowledges, but she can’t rest-she has no idea how things are here. Because the Hidan depicted on the wall seems like an angel of salvation. A beautiful teenager in a sea of people, all looking at him in awe, hands reaching for his light. Donning white robes, his eyes look alight. Strange details stand out: in the backround, resting above a collection plate the cut hands tied together with a string of bells is painted too vividly to be anything but a symbol. The people in the crowd look hungry and sick, tired and poor. Except for those that Hidan seems to have already passed, who look better-dressed and healthy and adoring. Well, the message is clear. The only absolution from the pain and misery of life can be found in death, turning Hidan from an executioner into a liberator. That or the local Hidan was some sort of Elemental Countries Jesus, but fat chance of that happening.

 

It’s clear that she managed to get away, but now she needs to find a way back. Obviously reality is more fragile here, but she doubts the chamber will let her open any kind of stable portal (as if she even knew how to do that), so she’s going to need power (it takes some serious energy to jump into a different universe) and a way that would at least theoretically let her stay whole and alive while she makes the trip. There’s a couple of options that come to mind, but Gelel is the obvious (and probably safest, when compared to bijuu, experimental seals combined with time-space distortions, kamui or rinnegan) option. That much power should be more than enough to propel her one universe over while maintaining her structural integrity (questions of whether the power can be manipulated with enough finesse to achieve her goal are a problem for the future). She takes a few minutes to compose herself before setting out. The entrance to the church mirrors the mural, she realises going out, mentally tallying up the stuff she has in Hammerspace. There are no hands above the collection box, but there’s a string of bells with rusted spots, ringing gently in the wind. The sound gives her goose bumps so she hurries off, heading to Wind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The stone makes a handy ally against fatigue, regular transformations allowing her to keep an even pace until she reaches the border of fire country. To her surprise, the outposts are better equipped than the ones she remembers. Even more surprising is the flow of immigrants that seems to be pouring into Yuu. Maybe tourism was flourishing here(2)? But shadows don’t need passports, so she takes her leave once more. She stops for the night (well, day, because she’s been running for a while now) at an inn in Tankazu Gai, anonymous in the crowds in civilian garb. She’s satisfied with her progress, having crossed most of fire country. Her geography is ok, but it doesn’t account for alternate historical developments, so she can’t rely on the settlements she knows being there. It might be safest to just run the last stretch of her journey without stop, so she takes the time to rest and relax now, while she still can. This world seems to have a thing for bells, she thinks distractedly as she polishes off a yakitori stick, because she keeps seeing them. Braided in hair, hanging by food stalls, even on ribbons tied to some of the trees she’s passed on her way here. It brings to mind the bells in the temple which in turn makes her think about what exactly brought her to the temple. Nope, fence it in and shove it out into her shadow, she can’t afford to fall apart so far from home and any notion of safety she might have. It can’t possibly be healthy, but it sure is convenient.

 

After a refreshing 13 hours of sleep, she’s ready to go again. She sets out for the Land of Rivers, trying to keep her thoughts from sending her in a spiralling depressive episode and idly admiring the familiar scenery. The air feels charged, somehow, and she wonders if there might be differences in the natural chakra, because the longer she hangs around the more off-balance she feels. Like having something hover right above her skin, it’s enough to alarm, but nothing she can put her finger on.

 

It stays out of her reach until it’s suddenly not. She can hear Gelel. Much too soon, and different, in a way, but still unmistakably Gelel. Spiritual influence doesn’t really translate into music notes exactly, but the closest analogy she can give is someone changing the key of a familiar song. Recognizable, doubtlessly, but just different enough to grate. Still, it’s to be expected-if natural chakra is not the same, how can she expect Gelel to correspond exactly to what she remembers? Earlier signs might actually mean the temple being built somewhere different, closer to the border, meaning it’ll probably be a headache and a half to find and navigate. Just to be on the safe side, she reaches out to her stone. It’s fiddly, unstable work, but she reaches the desired compromise: using the stone as a model, she can adjust the frequency of her own chakra until it’s a note that fits into the surrounding symphony. It’s a trick that will probably make her nigh-impossible to detect to sensors (since she’s mimicking a breed of natural chakra), so she takes a mental note to look into finding an alternative that she can use in a regular mission scenario. Her chakra can maintain the balancing act without her maintaining her focus exclusively on it, but any interruption (like, say, gearing up for a jutsu or even tree-hopping ) would definitely undo her work and force her chakra back into its natural state. She keeps her senses sharp, since her sensing is out of commission via ‘music’, and maintains an even pace. Wind country is close, given the hot breeze, and she’s making good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. People are way more on top of the whole ‘slight weakness in the fabric of reality’ when they have a vivid example of what exactly might come out.  
> 2\. Tourism is actually a way bigger thing here, in spite of Yuugakure not having become a civilian tourist trap like in canon. It’s a combination of pilgrims and people who are looking for a better life in one of the many welfare programs the country has developed


	5. Making new friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins of the village hidden in the desert and Gelel's awakening.

 

 

They go into the desert because there is nowhere else to go. The turmoil that plagues the south has finally reached Earth Country, allowing his people’s fight for freedom to succeed after centuries of struggle. It comes at a price, because the very thing that made the breaking of their chains possible is killing them: the entire continent is bathed in blood, fights over territory and resources turned into honour and grudges that have lasted centuries and have buried more men than anyone could ever guess. His people is weak, so they are prey and thus hunted relentlessly. The whole continent seems now caught in the bloody carnage that is this endless war, but they all know that’s a lie. The desert is as empty of strife as it’s ever been, so it’s to the desert that they go. No one comes out of Wind Country (wind, because that is the only thing that goes there), so no enemies will dare follow them. They might die, but they will not allow themselves to be culled, massacred in the dark of the night, erased from the world in a smear of red. They will never allow themselves to suffer at another’s whims, so they choose to face whatever fate awaits them between the shifting dunes.

 

They have only just begun advancing through the desert proper- the prickle of activity at the very edge of his senses in the distance faint, but still distinguishable- but Yoru can already feel it weighing him down. The oppressive heat of the sun, reflected by the sand and blasting from both above and below, the shifting sand slowing his tread and the strange emptiness that saps his strength are convincing, but he will neither turn his people back nor end his journey here. There is some measure of hope still. Once the night falls, Mika will be able to read their fate in the stars again (a long, long time ago, they had been travellers. Not like the warrior nomadic clans, but relying on their gifts to get by and get through the next season. But moving is not conductive to technological and military development, so they had been easily enslaved by the northern settlers. Still, however low they might have been brought, the gifts of the blood cannot be erased merely by their captors wishing it so).

 

Their hope against hope is realised, because the desert gets harsher. They see a desert storm from the cover of one of the rare rocky outcroppings and they all know that if it had not been for the forewarning, there would be none of them left alive. It’s in the heart of the desert, just at the point when things are becoming unbearable- their faces gaunt with hunger and their feet heavy with exhaustion, losing more water than they can afford, that they find the oasis. It’s as if just the sight of it on the horizon gives them strength, but they choose not to push and reserve their arrival for the following day. The sight of the cure to all their aches, the long-dreamed of paradise is maddeningly close, but they have suffered for too long not to have learned patience. Kaname has a story to tell. Her stories are rare (having her tell one before a birth is the best sign a parent can get, because it’s insurance their child will live long enough to become something), but everyone listens. Probably because everyone but her knows they are not just stories. That night when they drift off, all cuddled close to guard against the cold desert nights, they dream about the spirit of the desert and the fountain from which it is reborn each time it is slain.

 

* * *

 

 

They rise with the dawn the following morning and head for the oasis with peace in their hearts and the knowledge that today might be the day they die fighting a monster for a chance at a dream their grandparents stopped hoping for. But there is no monster in the oasis(1). There is something, certainly, because the air is teeming with life. It gives them some time to interpret and to plan.

 

It’s the difference between life and death, between facing an inevitable but hopeless battle and sacrificing a god at its weakest. The new moon helps them reach an unlikely victory(2). The monster is dead and the change can be felt almost immediately. The air feels charged, buzzing with a discharge they can’t see but nonetheless know is there. Over the next few weeks, their health is boosted and the plants grow at unprecedented rates. The odd plant life cycles will remain a fixture: shot periods of extreme development followed by death, but it will be decades before they realise the reason.

 

* * *

 

 

Yoru will not allow the old ways to come back, because he has paid dearly for the mistakes of his ancestors. The settlement (and it can only be a settlement, not a camp, because there is nowhere else to go in the desert) that they’re building will be one where the future will be safeguarded by the care of the present. At night, he dreams about a field of candles flickering in the wind and he knows he can feel his brethren-too akin to his own spirit to be perceived in the light of day, but the cover of the night bringing them all ever closer together. They have limited knowledge, but what they have will be shared between all. They have the time to grow, safe in this little pocket of isolation.

 

The bonds that keep their little community together only seem to grow tighter with the time and work put into making an oasis into a sustainable inhabitable environment. He wakes up inspired and consensus is easier to reach than ever. The months flow by. They are still weak, but together they are unbreakable. Understanding flows in previously unimaginable ways. This is the power of a free people, he thinks, and he is wrong.

 

Years pass. Children are born. The desert demon is born anew and sacrificed promptly, once more making the land burst with life. But the oasis is soon enough proven to be insufficient. They need meat, and different breeds of fruit and vegetables and cereal; their food, plentiful as it may be, is not diverse enough. They start getting sick. This is not a problem they have ever been confronted with, but somehow no one doubts the cause and no one wonders where the knowledge could have originated. Some will need to leave their home and go back into a world that has only ever given them pain.

 

They return safely, against all hope. They come back with seeds and animals and cuttings. They come back with stories about avoiding bloodshed because they could feel others from miles away. Stories about running tirelessly for days and increased strength make their way around the settlement and whispers of a desert’s blessing start to appear. Their dreams start showing the bright light that glows onto their (ever more tightly-knit) community.

 

The strife that plagues the outside world makes others take a chance as well, brings caravans of desperate refugees to their doorstep. They welcome them in, because there is plenty to go around. There is evil and envy festering in the hearts of some, plans to suss out their riches and their methods to bring back to their bloodthirsty clans. It matters not, because once they arrive in Sunagakure, their city of dreams, they too become invested in the common good. At night their souls grow closer and in daytime the bonds of the spirit are reinforced with comradery and kindness. Every new citizen becomes a star in the darkness of the desert night.

 

The discovery of Gelel comes not as a surprise. It’s a realisation that has been hovering at the edge of their perception for ages, and fits naturally into place. The dessert beast, through its sacrifice, allows them to survive the harsh conditions of the desert. But Gelel is the one who unites them, blessing them with knowledge and strength against their enemies. Yoru can almost see their predecessors, the proud empire that reigned over this desert once, the ones who carried Gelel within them, and Gelel’s longing to be once more one with its people resonates within them all. Let them feast on the outsiders who once thrived at the expense of his people’s suffering.

 

But they are not the same as the people of old. There are invisible but fundamental differences that prevent what has now become a common dream from coming true. Human ingenuity will not let something as simple as biological incompatibility stand in its way. Because Gelel was born from a seal, and that was considerably more adjustable than the bodies of the hundreds of people in their settlement and the ones that were sure to come in the following years.

 

It takes decades, of course. They are attempting to do something wholly unique, working with Gelel’s patchy knowledge of its own construction and what they can get from the foreign schools of sealing immigrants have been exposed to. But they are patient, because theirs is a project that will be continued by future generations, there is no fear of the purpose fading with time. They can take the time to do things right. Of course, once they have obtained the finished product, the problem of application remains. Because no one can get close to the origin of Gelel. The trials begin, but there is no apparent solution to compensate for the increased chakra drain. Less than a year later, one appears with the creation of the other ninja villages, and the subsequent distribution of jinchuuriki. They don’t have one of their own (they aren’t really a ninja village, for all that they can manipulate chakra) and the Ichibi is integral to their continued prosperity, so there is no risking it, regardless of how noble the purpose. But is proves that a human body is capable of holding enough chakra for their enterprise to be viable. And so it gives their experiments a whole new direction.

 

In the end, the answer comes from a different direction. Uzumaki Yuuto comes, seeking refuge against his clan who would not dare follow him into the desert, lest they be lost forever. Uzumaki Yuuto stays, bringing specialized sealing knowledge and an enormous chakra reservoir. Suddenly, a goal so far in the future it’s barely visible comes back within reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is not the garden of life from death. This is basically the area in which Shukaku reforms every time he is destroyed (since all the bijuu seem to have a tendency to reform around the same spot every time), which ensures a steady supply of nature chakra. More nature chakra=> more likely for stuff to grow=>more nature chakra, etc-it’s a self-sustaining cycle. Shukaku isn’t bound to it, so he moves around a lot, but he keeps to it more than he would in cannon because he’s not exactly fond of Gelel’s greedy little paws getting all up in his chakra.  
> 2\. In cannon Shuukaku's influence was at its weakest during the new moon and strongest during a full one.
> 
> The way I see it, because of the constant drain that is Gelel, even from afar, their bodies start producing more chakra to compensate the deficit. But once they’re not in its drain area, their bodies still keep up the new rate of production, making them have an excess of chakra.


	6. The reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that awkward moment when you yell hello at someone you know on the street and it turns out to be a stranger? That, but he's also trying to kill you now.

 

 

She has no problem crossing into Wind: there’s no outposts, no patrols, nothing to even mark the distinction between the territories. Albeit, she can already feel the heavy drain that Gelel has on the area, so local geography might very well be entirely different from her memories. She hopes the mines are still in the same spot, since otherwise finding them could turn into a very dangerous game of hot and cold stretched out over days spent searching. The differences are conspicuous and induce a fair amount of suspicion, but it’s not nearly enough to change her plans. Universe crossing is risky business, and her other options (the imagined ones, since there is no certainty to any one of them) are far enough out of her reach that she’d rather investigate here first before truly dismissing it.

 

By the time she reaches the temple the certainty that something is very wrong has settled in, but it feels like there’s no choice but to fence onwards. The trick she’s using to integrate her chakra into the ensemble and keep it inside her where it belongs has backfired, because she feels irrevocably drawn to the swell of the music guiding her to the seal. It’s still a surprise when she first touches the shard of rock that connects her to this version of Gelel. It mirrors the one she’s already intimately acquainted with and she’s still lost in a field of stars. But this Gelel acts like a black hole, reaching for anything and everything it can grasp, pulling it in to devour. Now that it can finally see her clearly, it wants to eat her too, consume and make her part of itself. It’s a notion more tempting than she can even admit to herself: to be an integral part of something so much bigger than herself, to be fully accepted and free from the pain and pressure of everyday life. But she has brought too much change in the world to trust that things will work out. She has to take responsibility and try to make up for what she’s stolen just by existing (the certainty of a happy ending for so many of the people she loves). She’s fighting for more than just herself.

 

And she’s got some experience putting her foot down when facing supernatural beings. If she likens attraction to gravity, then all of that power would be flowing into the thing with the highest mass around-and that’s her, since Gelel, for all its power, doesn’t have a physical body. That assumption wouldn’t stand up to even the slightest bit of inquiry, it only makes some apparent sense if uncontested, so she just shoves the thoughts that want to analyse the truth of the law she wants to impose in this liminal space away and into the shadows. Because Gelel is not a creature of cold rationality or reason, so for a second it can’t help but let itself be convinced. It sounds right, so it becomes true-and the moment she feels the chakra come under her control, she doesn’t allow it the time to decide otherwise. She releases it in an explosion of chakra that knocks her out.

 

She wakes up to a scene not unlike the original release of Gelel. The outburst of plant life seems wilder, more lush (and probably stretches further out, given this Gelel’s reach) and she’s in top form. Of course, there’s bound to be people investigating soon enough and there’s no point in wallowing around ground zero of her dashed hopes. She leaves because she has to, but does so with a heavy heart. The time has come for her to revamp her exit strategy.


	7. The little fish, the big fish and the ecosystem-destroying petroleum spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The before and the after

 

 

       Sunagakure is not a shinobi village. It’s a village where ninja live, but it doesn’t fit into the structure that all the other villages have adopted. The differences aren’t just cosmetic, but reflect a purpose and function that’s worlds apart from any other place in the Elemental Nations. Given how out of the way it is and the fact that it’s not in direct competition with all the other Hidden Villages since it doesn’t accept missions, it shouldn’t even figure as a player on the international scene. Except nobody gets to ignore them, since the flagrant beacon of ‘something wrong’ started flashing decades ago and never ceased.

 

If you’re badly injured, or desperate, hunted or powerless, you can go into the desert. Brave the drain that plagues the endless dunes and abandon the world as you know it. You might not die, but you’ll never be the same. Anyone can go in, but no one really comes out. It makes Suna a destination for lower-level deserters, who would rather brave whatever it is that makes Suna nin what they are than die at the hands of Hunter nin.

 

They take hostages, occasionally. No one ever sees them again but interrogation must be incredibly effective, given how the desert ninjas don’t hesitate to meddle in even the most secret missions, the ones where only two people were ever supposed to be in the know and then promptly be forgotten(1). They don’t have a lot of ninjutsu or even great equipment, but they all meet a hellish standard of physical conditioning: too fast and too strong to face in taijutsu for anyone but a master and resilient besides. They’re all flooded with chakra, heal fast and collaborate impeccably. They’re a nightmare to fight, but at least they’re not generally combative. Standing orders are to avoid them if you can and call for back-up if it’s looking like you’re the target: they are very dedicated (slavishly so), but not invincible. Of course, you might condemn yourself to a life of running for your life every time you even go near Wind country borders if you kill one-since the rest always know and will hunt you down ruthlessly if given the opportunity. More than a few good ninjas choose to surrender to the desert than live in fear.

 

So when Suna breaks the silent agreement of mutual minimal involvement, it’s worrying. The Yonbi reforms in southern Stone country. Suna troops seal it away before Iwa can recover it. The powerlessness of the position they’re in grates on the Tsuchikage, but the world would see their loss of the bijuu as a weakness. Konoha probably knows-long range sensors are rare, but the leaf fuckers were practically drowning in kekei genkai and long-lost abilities. The Senju clan, for all that it had disappeared in name, had still managed to breed with seemingly the entirety of the village before their near-extinction. Wasted all the coordinated efforts to hunt them down and the losses sustained in the process. The world could not know of Iwa’s weakness, so there would be no hope of blasting those sandy bastards off the face of the planet. An Uzushio-style assault would be the only solution here, but the bad blood between the hidden villages seemed to only grow with every generation, making his hopes optimistic at best.

 

There is something in the desert, draining the life out of any and all that might choose to enter its territory. The theft of the beast is galling, but he cannot allow Iwa to commit to a full on assault, not when there is so much uncertainty: he will not risk the ruin of his home by pitting it against the desert. He knows well enough when it’s time to bite your tongue and bide your time, for all that his enemies try to paint him as brash and stubborn.

 

When the drain goes away, he’s one of the first to know. It means something big is afoot. Because this is either the opportunity to take control or Suna is making a move. And opening the borders is precisely the kind of move that you could use to trap thousands. Get them close and snap it shut.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

They want to say that they notice its absence immediately, but they don’t. Nothing appears to change, but as hours go by and little disagreements start to pop up it becomes obvious that something is wrong. By the rise of dawn, everyone has discovered the death of their guardian. They are no longer united above all else and are now vulnerable to outside influence besides, without the drain to protect their borders or its guidance to make newcomers into allies. It is a loss beyond words and they have no one to blame.

 

To achieve such immaculate perfect destruction of their god one would have to reach the central seal-something they have been looking into for decades without recourse, although their attempts have come close. It’s maddening to know that an unknown enemy managed it before them and used it to destroy what they held dear.

 

The lack of Gelel stands out more because they are so used to it being there. Society doesn’t function as a seamless machine anymore. People are entirely unused to a life of daily arguments and it takes its toll on the already low morale. There is no common goal to rally behind, no certain enemy to take revenge on. They wobble on their new uncertain standing, trying to find solutions before the rest of the continent catches on as to what happened. The seals that once formed their guardian have been destroyed, roots bursting and crumbling through the stone and it feels almost like that stone was also the raft that kept their settlement afloat, because humans don’t seem to have been made for group settings.

 

Until a shining ray of hope appears. An ally against the outside world, who also wishes for Gelel’s restauration. An ally who has a plan. Gathering the tailed beasts will be difficult, no doubt, but the Ten Tails would definitely have enough power for its jinchuuriki to once more draw forth the lost Gelel-which is now just out of reach, without power of its own but still plenty of believers. They have one beast and there is less than a year until the Ichibi reforms. How fortunate that all the rest are neatly contained within vulnerable human prisons(2).

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1)A high-performing T&I department is more credible than an entire village of sensors and as such the likely conclusion.  
> (2)Zetsu, ever the opportunist


	8. Devotion and the spiritual slingshot effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan tracks down the invader of his universe. It might have already gotten rid of Gelel, likely seem as its largest competitor, but he will not allow an outsider to lay claim on any part of Jashin-sama's kingdom.

 

 

       He’d been settling matters with some men who thought they were smart enough to get away with defrauding money from one of the outreach programs sponsored by the church of Jashin up in Kumo when he first started hearing the bells. Not just any bells, but the blessed ones, the ones that were never meant to leave the Church. He’d taken them from the unworthy Head Priest but left them in the Church, knowing he’d make a very different Head Priest and having no intention of remaining in Yuugakure exclusively. The bells were meant to guard against enemies of Jashin and given their location, it’s obvious that something has managed to by-pass the security measures of the Breach. It’s the reason he’s been on the run for days, trying to catch it before it does irreparable damage to this world. Jashin is not a distant God, regardless of what he’s heard others say- he has no trail to track, but the sound of bells that aren’t there always corrects his trajectory. God is so obviously there for him that he can never trust priests that insist godly presence is subtle and a matter of faith.

 

As it becomes obvious that the presence is headed to the desert he increases his pace. Their world is not nearly well defended enough to survive the repercussions of a clash of titans. Gelel, the one whose name is not spoken, has never really been his problem. But it bears the knowledge of its ancestors and the strength of the land if Jashin is to be trusted (and he is. Jashin is trusted above all else), so, given the blatant spread of its territory, it would make an immediate target for any would-be conqueror. But Gelel has no followers, only disciples. It will not go down easily, if at all. In the end, regardless of the result of the fight, the higher beings will remain indifferent and the damage done to their surroundings will be felt by the humans. He cannot allow it to take place.

 

He’s too late.

 

He arrives at the edge of the desert, long past the edge of Gelel’s former territory, and takes a moment to acknowledge that there is no choice left. He will have to fight the Other, and he will have to win. A devourer of worlds this proactive cannot be left to run amok.

 

Now that the die has been cast, there is no hurry. He gives his rosary a considering rub and treks slowly up a dune. There is some time left before sunrise. He will be greeting dawn from as high a vantage point as he can manage to find. The first light is always spectacular in the desert.

 

As daybreak approaches, as the world gets ready to shift, he gets closer to the divine. The bells are clear now, as is Jashin’s will. The people he has brought into the fold carry him in their spirit. He has taught them to accept suffering, to taste and shudder at its depth, and allow themselves to be overcome. Take in what it brings them: the wisdom it carries, the throb of being alive, the torture that is to experience the world in all its complexity, the testament to the strength of their character to be able to bear such a burden. And then get up and brave the next day, fight to rise above their circumstances. He can feel the weight of their hope and their gratitude. He has touched thousands of lives and he has been changed in return. There is no mortal force that could cut him down, not with how thoroughly their prayers anchor him to this realm.

 

* * *

 

 

Once the sun has well and truly risen, he starts the hunt. The miles flow by, the heat brutal and ever rising, but there is nothing but the holy quest in Hidan’s mind. The clarity of his purpose makes the goal implacable: fate is already set in stone-he will track, he will catch, he will fight with the might of Jashin-sama and all that suffer.

 

The origin of Gelel is visible from miles away. There’s natural chakra wafting off it in waves so thick any regular ninja could sense it and it has resulted in a whole new ecosystem sprouting. The plants look foreign, and a voice whispers about the restoration of the species that Gelel sucked dry, chakra re-treading the paths this place once knew. The invader has not languished in their victory, but rather has chosen to move on to sandier pastures. The light tinkle of silver in his ears has morphed into the sonorous ringing of church bells.

 

He catches up. He sees it in the distance, a small dark figure casting long, pitch-black shadows. It looks like a girl, or rather the drawing of one come to life: pale skin surrounded by dark tones; large black empty eyes turning to look at him as he gets close. Hidan is gearing up for the fight of his life.

 

It’s over in a second.

 

She’d been getting lighter for a while now. Stress will eat away at you, certainly, but not quite to the extent of chopping chunks of yourself and putting them away will. And there’s quite a bit of Shikako that’s missing. It’s in her shadow, sure, but it’s not in Shikako anymore. So when Hidan slams into her, she goes flying. Because he’s unbelievably heavy, bearing the blessing of a beloved god and anchored by the gratitude of thousands who owe him whatever sliver of the pie of life they had managed to grab onto, and she’s…not. There’s little enough left, and spread pretty thin, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that it happens. But they’re both still startled when he manages to body slam her out of his universe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using magic to compartmentalize has consequences.


	9. Those left behind

 

 

        It only takes days. Suna is humming with natural chakra in preparation for the Ichibi’s impending re-formation. Suna houses hundreds of citizens who are flooded with chakra once the constant drain on their systems subsides and a jinchuuriki to add to that number. Chakra doesn’t spread fast or easily, not when it has nice orderly patterns it can stay in and there’s nothing to carry it away. Suna is a thriving metropolis surrounded by a vast space that lacks chakra almost entirely, as a result of Gelel’s disappearance.

 

By the time the first Iwagakure troops reach it, there’s nothing left but a massive glass canyon.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

On another side of reality, a girl draws in a surprised breath. A quick check of her surroundings later, she sets off.

It’s a brave new world out there.


End file.
